


Closely Acquainted Criminals

by ArgentShiroi



Series: Love to hate you [5]
Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Handcuffs, Hook-Up, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 13:34:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentShiroi/pseuds/ArgentShiroi
Summary: Mistaken identities and undercover cops may cause confusion.





	Closely Acquainted Criminals

Neyla pushed the attractive Vixen on her bed of her temporary apartment, still kissing her. Her heart was beating wildly and not only because of the kiss. This was their thief, she kept reminding herself. She was on a mission, she needed to focus no matter how well those paws were distracting her.

“Oh, god,” Neyla purred as the Vixen nibbled her ear, pulling her on her lap. The room was too hot. Or maybe it was just Neyla; she was melting under vixen’s touch.

“You like this, don’t you,” the Vixen whispered, sounding slightly amused, before biting a bit harder. Her hands travelled over Neyla’s shirt, unbuttoning the shirt she had chosen for this particular night devilishly slowly. Why the hell had she chosen something _with buttons_? Neyla had already ripped Vixen’s shirt and tossed it away.

“Come on, answer me, Kitten.” Kitten? She could live with that, not like she could remember whatever fake-name she had used in the bar.

“Bloody fuck, yes,” Neyla cursed pushing the Vixen down with more force than she thought she had left. The Vixen chuckled.

“You like to be on the top, don’t you? Well, I don’t mind at all. Just tell me, want some more than simply topping me?”

“W-what?” Neyla stuttered. The Vixen grinned, dragging her clawed paw on Neyla’s leg slowly.

“Like bondage? I wouldn’t mind cuffs either.”

“You want me to cuff you to the bed?” Neyla repeated, sobering enough to remember her mission again. This sounded almost too easy. Who let a stranger to cuff them in a bed? Yeah, not going with that train of thought because Neyla could actually make a list, some of those on the list had also met their end in said bed.

Then again, this Vixen was the famous thief. All signs pointed to that, even the bar where they had met. It was possible that she could slip away if she had enough time, not that Neyla was planning on giving her time to escape.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t tell me that you’re that vanilla?” the Vixen teased. Neyla blushed. She _had_ handcuffs but they were for the work. Well, she could say that she was into it if the thief asked…

“Uh, no… give me a second,” Neyla stumbled out and walked to her drawer. The Vixen was giving her a look that almost made her forget how to breathe. Why did she have to be a criminal? Neyla would have loved to spend the night on… other activities, exchange numbers and have a little fun while she was in New York.

The Vixen let Neyla cuff her without any resistance, her eyes never leaving Neyla’s. She had to know how to get away from those cuffs. No one could look that comfortable otherwise.

“Come on, kiss me,” the Vixen taunted. Neyla hesitated a second before leaning forward. This was okay, right?

There was a soft click and the Vixen pulled away. She sat up and tilted her head as she faced Neyla with huge grin. How? That was way too fast! She tried to move but something dug in her wrists.

Her handcuffs.

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

“You’re under arrest for selling illegal substances,” the Vixen stated calmly, smugly even.

What? Neyla tried to speak but, apparently, she couldn’t remember how to form words. That tone and commanding air made her brain completely freeze. If she had thought that her partner was hot before… And the Vixen seemed to find this whole thing funny.

“Oh, come on. Did you really think that you could start your business here without NYPD’s knowledge?”

The vixen was a police officer? What if this was an elaborate plot to make her blow her cover? Maybe the Vixen knew that Neyla had flown all the way from rainy London to arrest the famous leader of the Cooper gang and was challenging her? 

“Show me the badge and I’ll talk,” Neyla struggled out. She had tried to sound commandeering but her voice sounded whinier in her ears than she liked. Having fun with a suspect wasn’t strictly professional but bloody hell the Vixen could kiss. And well, if Neyla was cuffed to make her target to feel more comfortable during the… data gathering, Neyla couldn’t very well arrest her. Thus, official guidebook was pretty much useless.

Now, if she wasn’t going to get laid, she needed a cold shower. Vixen could also put a bit more clothes because now she had only her bra (black lace with yellow ribbons) and Neyla could only think how she wanted to remove them.

“What makes you think that you can demand anything?”

“Uh, well…” Neyla took a deep breath. Her heart was racing and not because of the potential embarrassment, she had lost the ability to feel ashamed long ago. It was out of necessity or she would have died in the slums of India. She had hated every moment, chanting constantly that she would leave and never go back.

This had to be the worst time to realise that you were into cops and robbers role play. Despite, or possibly because of it, Neyla smirked. “D-do I need a safe word?”

“What?” The Vixen looked at her once, she had to see how much Neyla wanted her, because she marched into the kitchen, cursing loudly. She came back with a jug and tossed its contents on Neyla. She hissed when the cold water hit her.

_‘This isn’t the worst.’_ She reminded herself.

“Get your mind out of gutter, criminal,” the Vixen growled, blushing slightly. Neyla noticed it, of course.

The water had helped to clear her head quite a lot. Oh, this was going to be fun. She could mess with this innocent cop a bit. Maybe the Vixen would throw her in the jail but again, Neyla had endured far worse. This would also be a fun story to tell her co-workers back in Britain.

“Oh, but I find that I really can’t resist you, when you are dressed like that, detective,” Neyla purred flirtatiously, looking up and down Vixen’s body. It was truly a sight. The familiar warmth burned again lower part of her belly. The Vixen hesitated a moment. Then she looked down, seeing that her shirt was gone. Neyla winked at her, grinning widely.

The Vixen grabbed her shirt, buttoning it slowly with shaking hands. She wasn’t as unaffected as she tried to be.

“Need a _hand_ , detective?” Neyla pressed on.

“Inspector, to be precise,” the Vixen said with clipped tone. Clearly, she was the type who was all work and no play. Those were usually boring yet they tended to do well in bed, Neyla mused.

“So, Inspector, what exactly have I done?” Neyla purred. The Vixen raised her brow, like she was asking if Neyla was serious.

“Smuggling drugs and forging art and selling them using alias Magnificento. Don’t play stupid; it won’t help you.”

Neyla had to bit her lip to stop the laughter. This was worse, or possibly more hilarious, than she had even thought. This police thought that she was Moniseur Magnificento, real name Dimitri Lousteau. French police had arrested him few days ago. Now, Neyla could point out that Magnificento was a male lizard but then she wouldn’t see the shock when the Vixen realised her mistake. 

“Still waiting that badge, _dear_.”

The Vixen sighed and walked out of the room. Neyla heard rustling sound but she was more interested in the handcuffs around her wrists. The downside of cuffing someone during sex was that hands were rarely behind back so Neyla could see the cuffs. They were quite standard and she could get out of them, albeit not as quickly as Vixen.

“Hopefully this will shut you up.” Vixen showed her badge. Neyla looked at it. So, it was true. Not that she could recognise a fake anyway. Inspector Carmelita Fox, it said. It was definitely not the name Neyla had heard in the bar.

Now, Neyla bit her lip as she formed a plan. She should just direct the Inspector to the box where she kept her own Interpol-badge but it wouldn’t be fun at all. Her boss would kill her later but Neyla wasn’t known for following the rulebook so that would be fine. After all, cats had nine lives.  

“Well, I guess there are more effective ways to shut me up, _Carmelita_ ,” Neyla said.

“Oh, I bet,” Carmelita said lightly and pulled a shock pistol. Neyla had barely time to think about cursing before her world went black.

*

Waking up in jail was always an experience. Like all previous times, Neyla swore that this would be the last time. It never was and she knew it. Instead of wallowing, she started checking her mental list. Her head throbbed weakly but she had had worse hangovers. Her body ached but the pain subsided quickly.

She was alone, which was a bonus. Since she was in New York and not in India, chances were that she hadn’t been robbed or worse. The cell didn’t smell like something that had died six months ago and few moments later young coyote escorted her to shower. With hot water. It was definitely one of the best mornings in confinement.

When she was done and dressed in civilian clothes, the same coyote escorted her to a meeting room where three personae were already sitting. Her boss, Carmelita (who looked absolutely gobsmacked to her amusement) and someone who was NYPD’s boss.

“You could have handled this better, you know,” the Chief sighed and tossed her a bag. Neyla ruffled through it quickly. Her uniform, whip and badge were there along with a bag where her confiscated belongings were. She hadn’t had much on her last night, simply phone, keys and wallet.

“Yes, Chief,” Neyla agreed cheerfully. She knew when her boss was truly disappointed. Now he was probably amused but officially he needed to scold her.

“What’s going on?” Carmelita cut in, sounding annoyed. Neyla resisted the urge to grin at her.

“The tigress you arrested is an Interpol agent who is after the same thief as you are.”

“Cooper and his gang?”

“His?” Neyla asked, and glared at her boss, “gender would have helped more than ‘a person with fluffy tail’, you know?”

Chief shrugged, looking completely unapologetic. He could be total arse but… pot, kettle. They got along well.

“Well, since you’re so _closely acquainted_ already, you’ll work together to stop the Cooper gang,” Carmelita’s boss said and Neyla’s Chief nodded in agreement. He sounded disapproving. Who would have known that Americans could be stuffier than Brits?

“Have fun, ladies,” Chief said, giving a _look_ and a wink to Neyla. This time even the tigress was blushing in embarrassment.

Carmelita was clearly livid and stomped out of the room. She stopped by the door and turned around, not looking at Neyla.

“Are you coming or not?”

Neyla swallowed as warmth pooled in her stomach. Her mind decided to supply her with an image of Carmelita standing over her on the bed, wearing only underwear.

_’I wish.’_ Neyla bit her lip and curled her hands into fists, taking claws out. The mild pain unclouded her head a little.

“Uh, y-yeah…” Neyla stuttered out breathlessly. Working with someone you had seen naked few hours earlier felt awful already. Even then, this was curiously strong reaction to another person. This pull, need to touch the vixen, even feeling the clichéd butterflies. Neyla had always thought that it was stuff from romance novels. 

“Do you guys have anything on Cooper gang?” Carmelita asked when they were in the lift, going down to see Cooper’s most likely target. It was some kind of box that couldn’t be opened without destroying it. The legend said that _if_ someone could open it, they would learn where legendary seer-thief Cassandra Cooper had hidden her treasure.

“Well, not really. The Chief may know something but he doesn’t tell me. We were looking into Cassandra and found out about her box,” Neyla replied easily. They weren’t facing each other so closeness was a bit easier to endure.

“No wonder they keep you in the dark,” Carmelita grumbled. “It will be the ninth miracle of the world if we catch them.”

“Well, I guess we’ll be partners for a while, shall we not?” Neyla said cheerfully. Her grin only widened when the vixen looked murderous.

“Oh, joy. Look, I’m only letting you in because the boss ordered me to,” Carmelita growled.

“Of course,” Neyla replied airily. “So, what kind of magic did you use to escape from those handcuffs?”

“What?”

“Last night, would you mind showing that again?” Neyla asked, leaning closer. She slid her finger over Carmelita’s hand slowly. “Or are you that vanilla?”

“S-shut up.” The vixen was blushing, her eyes slightly darker than earlier.

Neyla’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Make me.”


End file.
